The seven-year-old boy in a wheelchair tried to stifle his tears as his stepmother mercilessly humiliated him. But before she could say anything worse, the housekeeper appeared in the doorway and shouted, “Don’t do that!” The voice echoed throughout the room. The millionaire, who had just arrived, froze at the sight. 

Legal advice.
Exclusive jewelry.
For two years, the house in the Montes de Oca had been silent, not for lack of people or because no one spoke, but because everything there felt lifeless. The silence wasn’t normal; it was uncomfortable, heavy, as if it hung in every corner.

Tomás, the owner of that enormous house with its tall windows and a garden that looked like it belonged in a magazine, was no longer surprised to wake up with that feeling of emptiness. His wife, Clara, had died in a car accident one rainy night on her way home after picking up a gift for Leo’s fifth birthday. From that day on, even the air seemed to move differently.

Leo was left in a wheelchair. The impact damaged his spine, and he never walked again. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that he never laughed again, not even once, not even when they brought him a puppy, or when they put a ball pit in the living room. Nothing. He just stared silently, with that serious little face and sad eyes.

He was seven years old now and seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Tomás did what he could. He had money; that had never been a problem. He could pay for doctors, therapies, caregivers, toys—anything—but he couldn’t buy his son what hurt him the most: his mother. He was broken too, only he hid it better.

She would get up early, go straight to work from her home office, and in the afternoon go downstairs to sit silently with Leo. Sometimes she would read to him, other times they would watch cartoons together, but it was as if they were trapped in a movie no one wanted to see. Several nannies and housekeepers had come and gone, but none of them stayed. Some couldn’t stand the pervasive sadness.

Others simply didn’t know how to handle the child. One lasted three days and left crying. Another didn’t even return after the first week. Tomás didn’t blame them. He himself had wanted to run away many times. One morning, while checking emails in the dining room, he heard the doorbell ring. It was the new employee. He had asked Sandra, his assistant, to hire someone else, someone with experience, but also kind, not just efficient.
Sandra
had told him she had found a very hardworking woman, a single mother, quiet, the kind who doesn’t cause any trouble. Her name was Marina. When she came in, Tomás glanced at her. She was wearing a simple blouse and jeans. She wasn’t young, but she wasn’t old either.

He had that kind of look you can’t fake, warm, as if he already knew you. She smiled at him, a little nervously, and he returned the greeting with a quick gesture. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize. He asked Armando, the butler, to explain everything. Then he went back to work. Marina went straight to the kitchen.

 

She introduced herself to the other employees and began her work as if she already knew the house. She cleaned quietly, spoke softly, and was always respectful. No one understood how, but within a few days, the atmosphere began to feel different. It wasn’t as if everyone was suddenly happy, but something had changed. Perhaps it was that she played soft music while sweeping, or that she always greeted everyone by name, or that she didn’t seem to pity Leo like the others did. The first time she saw him was in the garden.

He sat under the tree in his wheelchair, staring at the ground. Marina came out with a tray of cookies she had baked herself and approached him without saying a word. She simply sat beside him, took out a cookie, and offered it to him. Leo glanced at her, then looked down. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t leave. Neither did Marina. That’s how that first day passed, wordless, but with company.

The next day, Marina returned to the same place, at the same time, with the same cookies. This time she sat closer. Leo didn’t accept them, but asked her if she knew how to play Uno. Marina said yes, although she wasn’t very good. The following day they had the cards on the garden table. They played just one round.

Leo didn’t laugh, but he didn’t get up when he lost. Tomás began to notice these small but clear changes. Leo no longer wanted to be alone all day. He would ask if Marina was coming. Sometimes he would follow her around the house with his eyes. One afternoon he even asked her to help him paint. Marina sat with him and handed him paintbrushes without rushing him.

Leo hadn’t shown any interest in anything for a long time. Leo’s room changed too. Marina hung drawings on the walls. She helped him arrange his favorite toys on a low shelf so he could reach them. She only taught him how to make a sandwich with his own hands. Simple things, but important.

Tomás felt grateful, but also confused. He didn’t know if it was just a coincidence or if Marina truly had something special about her. Sometimes he would stand in the doorway watching her talk to Leo, how she touched his shoulder, how she smiled at him. She wasn’t a loud or flirtatious woman, quite the opposite, but she had a presence that couldn’t be ignored.

One night, while they were having dinner, Tomás noticed that Leo kept talking to Marina about a video game. She listened attentively, though she clearly didn’t understand much about it. Tomás didn’t say anything, he just watched them. Leo asked Marina to have dinner with them the next day. She was surprised, but accepted with a smile. That night, for the first time in a long time, Tomás slept with a different feeling.

It wasn’t happiness yet, but it wasn’t sadness either. The next morning, Marina carefully prepared chilaquiles. Leo helped her set the table. Tomás came downstairs and saw them both laughing about something he couldn’t hear. The boy had a stain of salsa on his nose. Marina wiped it with a napkin, and Leo didn’t complain. He didn’t even make that serious face he usually did. On the contrary, he seemed happy.

Tomás’s heart clenched. He wanted to thank Marina for that, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t say anything. He just looked at her with a mixture of surprise and something else he didn’t want to admit. Maybe it was admiration, maybe it was something else, but he didn’t think about it much. He was afraid of ruining what little they had managed to rebuild.

In the house in the mountains, laughter still lingered, but there was something that hadn’t been felt in a long time: hope, though no one spoke of it. Everyone knew that Marina’s presence had brought a light no one expected. Leo never walked again, but he began to see the world from a different chair, one without wheels, but with the will to keep going.

The day began as usual, with birds singing outside and the distant sounds of the cleaning staff moving about the house. The house in the mountains was so large that one could spend the entire day without seeing a soul. And that had been the case for some time, but that morning something was different. Tomás woke up before his alarm went off, not because of insomnia or work stress.

She woke up to the sound of laughter, soft laughter, not the kind that bursts into a full-blown laugh, but more like tiny bubbles. She got up, put on her housecoat, and went downstairs in silence, not quite sure what she expected to find. When she reached the dining room, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Leo sat at the table with his head down, intently arranging pieces of fruit on his plate. Across from him, Marina watched with her arms crossed and a smile that spoke volumes. She wore a yellow apron, her hair was pulled back, and there was a smear of flour on her cheek. They hadn’t heard him arrive.

Leo looked up and realized his dad was watching them. For a second he seemed to hesitate, as if unsure whether to keep laughing or stay quiet. Tomás calmly approached and stroked his hair. “What are you doing, champ?” he asked, not raising his voice much. “I’m making a smiley face with the fruit,” Leo replied without looking at him.

Marina told him that bananas could be used for a smile and strawberries for cheeks. She asked if it looked like him. Tomás smiled. It had been so long since he’d heard his son speak like that, so naturally, in such a relaxed tone. He sat down beside him and looked at the plate. It was a mess, but a beautiful mess. Marina went to the kitchen and came back with a plate for him too.

Eggs any style, toast, and cinnamon coffee. He quietly placed it in front of her and then sat down on the other side of the table. “Would you like sugar, or is this okay?” he asked. “This is perfect. Thank you.” Tomás took the coffee and looked at her for a few seconds. She didn’t avoid him, but she didn’t hold his gaze for long either. She concentrated on helping Leo arrange the blueberries as eyes. When he finished, the boy pushed the plate toward his dad.

Look, it’s your ugly face, isn’t it? Tomás pretended to be offended, and Leo let out a short but genuine laugh. Marina covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a loud laugh. It was the first time the three of them had shared a moment like this, without tension, without that silence that seemed to blanket everything like an old sheet.

Marina offered Tomás more coffee. He accepted. As she poured it, she asked if he wanted her to prepare anything special for dinner. “I don’t know, something Leo likes.” Tomás glanced at her and then back at her. “I honestly have no idea. Since his mother died, he hardly eats anything. He eats out of obligation. He doesn’t have any
cravings
. So, we have to change that,” Marina replied with a firmness that wasn’t very noticeable in her tone, but was evident in her eyes. “I’m going to prepare something that will make him smile, you’ll see.” Tomás just nodded. He didn’t know why, but he believed her.

The morning continued with small things that would normally go unnoticed, but which held special significance in that house. Marina placed a napkin on Leo’s lap without asking, and he didn’t complain. She cleaned his hands with a damp cloth after eating. And he didn’t pull his hands away as he used to do with other people. He even let her use hand sanitizer on him without protest. Tomás,
the owner of Supermercados,
watched them from across the table, unsure of what he was feeling. It wasn’t jealousy, it wasn’t sadness, nor was it relief; it was a strange mixture, as if he were watching his son experience something he couldn’t give him and at the same time felt grateful for it. Marina carefully cleared the plates.

He didn’t make a sound when he moved them, as if he knew that in that house silence was more than just a habit. When he went to the kitchen, Tomás was left alone with Leo. “Do you like Marina?” he asked. Leo nodded without speaking. “Why?” Tomás insisted. “Because she doesn’t treat me like I’m going to break.” Tomás felt something stir inside him.

He didn’t answer, he just ruffled her hair and got up. He went to his office to work, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He noticed it even more during the day. Marina didn’t just clean or cook; she took the time to talk to Leo, to ask him simple things like whether he wanted cold or hot milk, if he preferred pencil drawings or colored pencils, if he liked dogs more than cats. She didn’t do it with a plan, but with a disarming naturalness.

In the afternoon, while going downstairs for a drink of water, Tomás passed by the hallway and heard laughter coming from Leo’s room. He peeked in unnoticed. Marina was sitting on the floor with a large notebook on her lap. Leo was beside her, drawing something with great concentration.

She asked him what that big thing was in the middle of the drawing, and he told her it was a robot that could fly and walk, even though he couldn’t do either. Marina replied, “So you control it from your chair. It’s your legs and your wings.” Leo looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. Tomás felt a lump in his throat and walked away without saying anything. That night, dinner was different.

Marina prepared chicken and rice and a dessert her grandmother taught her to make: bread soaked in milk and cinnamon sprinkled with sugar. Leo ate everything without complaint. He even asked for more dessert. Tomás looked at him in surprise, and Marina shrugged as if it were no big deal, but it was, all three of them knew it.

After dinner, Tomás stayed alone in the living room with a glass of wine in his hand. Marina was washing the dishes, and Leo was already in his room watching a movie. Tomás watched her from afar in the dimly lit kitchen, illuminated only by the overhead light.
He
wondered when this woman, who had only been in his house for a few days, had managed to do what he hadn’t been able to in two years. He went over to thank her. He told her he was surprised to see Leo so calm. She dried her hands and looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t know if it has anything to do with me. Maybe he was ready.” Tomás shook his head. “It’s not about you. He doesn’t open up to just anyone.”

Marina lowered her gaze, looking embarrassed. “Thank you, Don Tomás.” Then, with a smile, she added, “But please don’t call me that. It makes me feel like I’m 70 years old.” Tomás chuckled involuntarily. “All right, Marina. Then you call me Tomás, without the ‘Don.’” She nodded. “Deal.” They remained silent for a few seconds. Then she continued washing the dishes, and he went to his study.

That night, before going to sleep, Tomás went to Leo’s room. The boy was already asleep. On the shelf was a new drawing: a giant robot with wings, and in the center, a small boy with a happy face piloting it. Tomás carefully picked it up and stared at it. He didn’t say anything, just sat down next to his son, covered him with the blanket, and turned off the light.

That morning the sky was cloudy, but it wasn’t cold. It was one of those strange days when the weather can’t decide whether it wants to rain or just be a nuisance with the damp air. Leo was in his room looking out the window with his usual expression, the one that showed nothing, but said everything. Marina peeked out from the doorway with a small wooden box in her hands.

“May I come in?” Leo nodded without saying anything. She entered slowly and sat on the floor across from him. The small box contained board games; they weren’t new. It was clear they had been used, but they were well cared for. Marina had brought them from her house when her son was little. Now he lived with his father in another state.

Leo knew nothing about it. He just saw the colored tiles and something flickered in his eyes, like a tiny spark that hadn’t yet decided to learn. “This one’s called Snakes and Ladders,” Marina told him. My son and I used to play it when he was bored. Sometimes he’d cheat, but I’d let him because it made me laugh.

Leo looked at her, half-interested. “Do you know how to play?” “Yes, we used to play it at school.” Marina took out the board and placed it on the low table. Leo approached with his chair and picked up the dice without saying a word. Marina sat down on the other side. The silence was filled with the sound of the dice bouncing on the wood.

They played one game, then another. Leo concentrated, but showed no emotion. He just did what he had to do: roll the dice, move his piece, wait his turn. Marina didn’t pressure him, didn’t tell him to cheer up, or use that fake voice some people used with him as if he were made of glass. She just played with him like any other child.

In the third game, Marina fell into a long snake that took her almost to the start of the board. She made an exaggerated face, leaned back, and said, “It can’t be.” As if it were a Greek tragedy. Leo looked at her. He thought it was funny. The corners of his lips twitched. Just a little, very slightly. Marina noticed, but said nothing. She continued playing.

In the next round, Leo landed on a ladder that took him straight to square 97. Marina looked surprised. We’re going to see each other, huh? That was champion’s luck. Leo looked at her again, this time looking down, but with a different expression, as if he were holding something back. “I’m going to beat you,” he said quietly.

“Well, we’ll see if that’s true,” Marina replied, her eyes sparkling. The game ended with Leo winning. He didn’t celebrate, he just stared intently at the board. Marina gathered the pieces while he looked out the window. After a while, Leo spoke without being asked, “Do you have children?” “Yes, one of them is named Darío, he’s grown up now, he lives with his dad, but we talk every day.” “Why doesn’t he live with you?” Marina was lost in thought.

Because sometimes adults don’t understand each other. And when that happens, you have to do the best you can with what you have. But I love him very much, even though I don’t see him every day. Leo nodded as if he understood more than he let on. He was quiet for a moment, then looked at her again. I miss my mom. Marina’s chest tightened, but she didn’t want to cry. She came closer and put her hand on his arm.

Slowly, respectfully. Of course, my love. And it’s okay that you miss her. Leo lowered his gaze. Marina said nothing more. She stood up, picked up the box, and left the room, leaving him with his thoughts. That afternoon, Tomás arrived home from work earlier than usual. He was in a bad mood because of a meeting that had gone badly.
Gift Baskets
quickly greeted the employees, went up to his room, changed, and went straight down to the studio. As he passed through the hallway, he heard noises in the garden, looked out the window, and stopped. Leo was with Marina on the grass next to her wheelchair. Marina was sitting on the ground with her legs crossed, and Leo was throwing a small ball to her.

Not a normal ball, it was one of those low-bouncy ones, made of foam. Marina threw it carefully, and Leo returned it with the same force. But what caught Tomás’s attention wasn’t the game, it was the expression on his son’s face. Leo was smiling. Not a discreet or forced smile.

He was genuinely smiling, his eyes wide, his cheeks raised, and his teeth showing. He was laughing. You could hear his laughter. It was soft, broken, but real. Tomás carefully opened the garden door, without making a sound. He stood still in the boat. Leo didn’t see him. He was still playing with Marina, who suddenly said something he didn’t hear, but which made Leo burst into even louder laughter. Marina was laughing too.

The sun peeked through the clouds at that very moment, and the whole scene seemed to glow with its own light. Tomás didn’t know what to do. A lump formed in his chest, as if something hot had been placed inside. He didn’t cry easily, but his eyes welled up, not from sadness, but from surprise, from emotion, from relief. He went into the garden without a word. Leo saw him and stopped laughing immediately. He became serious.

Marina noticed it too and stood up. “Dad.” Tomás smiled. “Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to see what you were doing.” “We were playing with the ball,” Leo said. “Marina’s good, but sometimes she throws it crooked, doesn’t she?” Marina said, laughing again. Tomás sat down on the nearby stone bench and watched them. He didn’t say anything else, he just observed.

Marina threw the ball to Leo harder, and Leo caught it as best he could. He threw it back with an accuracy he’d never shown before. Tomás saw his son’s smile again, the one he thought was lost forever, and he knew then that something had changed. That night, at dinner, Leo talked more than ever.

He told them about the game, about the snake that almost made Marina lose, about the drawing of the robot that was already hanging on the wall, and even about the bread and milk from the day before. Marina sat down to dinner with them at Leo’s request. Tomás just watched them in silence, but with a peace he didn’t remember feeling in a long time.

Before going to sleep, Leo gave Marina a hug, not too tight, not too long, but enough to freeze her for a second. He stroked her head and said, “Goodnight.” He got into his electric chair alone. Slowly, without asking for help. Tomás stayed with Marina in the living room. They didn’t know what to say. He offered her tea. She accepted. They sat facing each other with the warm cup in their hands.

“Thank you,” Tomás said simply. “I don’t know how you did it, but today I saw my son smile. I didn’t do anything, I was just there. He really wanted to laugh. He didn’t need permission.” Tomás nodded. They remained silent, but it was a different kind of silence, one that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, that doesn’t weigh you down. A silence full of things that aren’t spoken, but are felt.

And so, in the middle of a house that until recently was full of shadows, a small smile appeared, but it changed everything. Friday began just like every other day, with Marina entering the kitchen before anyone else, turning on the lights without making a sound, and preparing breakfast as if she had been doing it for years.

She already knew how Tomás liked his eggs, how much sugar he put in his coffee, and what fruit Leo preferred. That morning it was papaya with granola and carrot juice, which Leo didn’t love, but he drank it anyway without complaining. The boy was sitting in his chair watching his favorite cartoon while moving a toy car between his legs.

Marina stroked his hair as she passed, saying nothing, as was her custom. Tomás came downstairs wearing an ironed shirt, unusual for him, and his hair was still damp. He looked tired, his face a little more wrinkled than usual. It had been a long week, but that face also held something else. Something Marina noticed as soon as she saw him. Sadness mixed with nostalgia.

“Did you sleep badly?” he asked as he poured his coffee. “A little. A lot to think about.” Tomás grimaced. “Today would have been Clara’s birthday,” he said quietly. She always liked to celebrate with a dinner party at home. She invited her friends, cooked the food herself, lit candles. It was quite an elaborate affair. I was too lazy to do it, but the house came alive. Marina,
from Supermarkets,
lowered her gaze, said nothing, just placed the coffee next to the plate of eggs and ham and went to wash the blender. There was no need to say more. Leo didn’t comment. Perhaps he hadn’t heard him, or perhaps he had, but he preferred to remain in his own world, carefully turning the wheels of his wheelchair. The day passed peacefully.

Marina cleaned the second floor, did laundry, helped Leo with a drawing, and baked oatmeal cookies. Tomás had meetings, calls, and documents to review, but he couldn’t get that memory out of his head. Clara dancing in the living room with a drink in her hand, laughing with her friends, putting flowers in her hair. That night the house was silent.

He was in the study pretending to work when Leo peeked through the door. “Dad, what’s up, champ? Can we have dinner with Marina tonight?” Tomás looked at him, surprised. He put his pen down on the desk. “Are you hungry?” “A little, but I like it when the three of us have dinner together.” Tomás nodded without thinking much. “Yes, of course, I’ll go tell her.” He walked to the kitchen and found Marina finishing putting away the dishes.

She had already taken off her apron and looked ready to go up to her room. Hearing Tomás, she stopped. “Hey, Marina, Leo wants the three of us to have dinner.” She blinked. “Yes, it doesn’t have to be anything special, something simple, anything.” Marina thought for a few seconds, then nodded. “Give me 20 minutes.”

Tomás returned with Leo, who had already settled into his place at the table. He had put down his favorite glass, one with dinosaur designs, and a napkin folded into the shape of an airplane. Twenty-two minutes later, Marina entered the dining room with a pot of hot pasta, garlic bread, and a salad that looked like it came from a restaurant. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it smelled overwhelming.

He put everything on the table and sat down without much ceremony. Leo already had his fork in his hand and was looking at the pot as if it were a treasure. Tomás served himself first, then Leo, and Marina served herself last. They ate in silence for the first few minutes.

The only sounds were the clinking of silverware, the crunch of bread, and the soft tapping of Leo’s fork against his plate. Then they began to talk slowly. Leo asked if they could watch a movie afterward. Marina suggested an old adventure film that her son had liked when he was little. Tomás told a story about the time Clara burned a lasagna and the house filled with smoke. They laughed.
Leo
asked if his mom knew how to cook, and Tomás said yes, but that sometimes she made terrible things. Marina laughed even louder. After dessert, they had lemon gelatin with pieces of fruit. Leo fell asleep in the living room watching the movie. Tomás carefully picked him up and carried him to his room, where he tucked him in gently.

When he came downstairs, Marina was washing the dishes. “Let me help you,” Tomás said, rolling up his sleeves. “No need,” I insisted. He stood beside her and took a dishcloth. She handed him the dishes, and he dried them. Neither of them spoke, but the silence wasn’t awkward. There was a gentle peace in the air.

When they finished, Marina dried her hands with a towel and leaned against the bar for a moment. Tomás watched her out of the corner of his eye. There was something about her he couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t just the way she acted with Leo, or the way she moved around the house.

It was that calm she possessed even when speaking of her own story, when mentioning her son, or when falling silent, as if she knew more about life than she let on. “Thank you for making dinner,” Tomás said suddenly. “Today was a difficult day for me, I imagined.” Clara would be happy to see Leo laughing again. Marina looked at him without replying, not coldly, but respectfully. “You’ve done your part, too.” I don’t think so.
Online movie streaming services
. I’ve only been surviving. Sometimes surviving is all you can do. They remained like that for a few seconds. Tomás felt he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t know what. It was strange to feel this closeness with someone he didn’t even know. But at the same time, he no longer felt she was a stranger. It was as if she had always been there. “Do you like pasta?” Marina asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “I loved it.”

“Well, because I made too much and tomorrow we’ll have leftovers,” they laughed. He said goodnight and went to his room with the feeling of having experienced something important, even though he didn’t know exactly what. That night, Marina stayed up a little longer, reading a small book underlined in pencil.

In her room there was nothing but a bed, a dresser, a mirror, and a box with her things. But when she closed her eyes, she thought of Leo, of the smile he’d given her when Tomás told her about the lasagna, and of how the house no longer felt so sad. She didn’t allow herself to think of Tomás. Not yet. Tomás, for his part, lay back on the bed with his arms behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, not thinking about work, not thinking about his pending tasks.

She only had one image in her head: Marina laughing with Leo, the smell of pasta, and the moment she finally felt that, for one night, the house wasn’t a sad place. On Sunday morning, Tomás came downstairs looking more dressed up than usual.

He wasn’t wearing his usual loungewear, nor the hastily styled hair he sometimes barely bothered with. He was wearing a crisp, white shirt, dark trousers, and polished shoes. Marina saw him from the kitchen and stood still for a moment. It wasn’t common to see him like this on a weekend. He greeted her with a quick nod and poured himself some coffee.

“Would you like breakfast?” Marina asked from behind the counter. “No, thank you. I’m going out.” Marina didn’t ask any more questions, she just continued cutting fruit for Leo. Tomás looked at his watch several times until finally he heard the sound of a car approaching. He went outside without saying anything. From the living room window, Marina caught a glimpse of him opening the car door for a woman who stepped out with a confident stride, a broad smile, and dark sunglasses. She was tall, slender, with long, dark blonde hair in soft waves, wearing tight jeans and a crop top. It was clear she was comfortable in her own skin. Tomás kissed her on the cheek and offered her his arm. She took it.

She took it with confidence, as if she’d known him all her life. They went inside together, talking softly and smiling. Marina moved away from the window and went back to the kitchen. She didn’t say anything, just turned down the heat and stared at the flame for a few seconds. Then she took a deep breath and continued cooking. Tomás introduced the woman as Paola. He said she was a friend visiting. Marina nodded and offered him something to drink.

Paola accepted a mineral water, but she didn’t stop looking around curiously. She commented on how big the house was, how quiet, how clean. Each sentence had an analytical tone, as if she were evaluating everything she saw. “And you must be Marina,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Tomás told me a lot about you.”

“He says you’re an important part of this.” Marina smiled slightly. “I’m just doing my part.” Well, it shows. Everything is so beautiful. Tomás led Paola to the garden. She walked with elegance, as if she were always in a place where she had to look her best. They sat on one of the benches and talked for almost an hour.

Marina walked by a couple of times carrying a tray of juice or a small plate of cookies, but she didn’t join the conversation. Paola greeted her each time in a friendly but distant tone. After a while, Leo got off in his electric wheelchair. Marina saw him appear in the dining room doorway and approached him with a smile. “Are you here for breakfast, champ?” “Yes. And my dad’s in the garden. He has a visitor.”

Leo frowned. A visitor. A friend. Leo didn’t ask any more questions. Marina helped him to the table and served him his food. While he was eating, he heard voices approaching. Tomás and Paola came in through the garden gate. She was laughing loudly as if she had just heard the best joke in the world. When she saw Leo, she lowered her voice a little. “Hi,” she said enthusiastically. “It
must
be you, Leo. Nice to meet you, I’m Paola.” Leo looked at her without answering. “Aren’t you going to say hello?” “Hi,” Leo said quietly. “That’s it, I like your chair. It looks fast.” Tomás interrupted her. “Paola, would you like to have breakfast with us? Of course, if it’s not too much trouble.” Marina had already started to serve him a plate when Paola, with a smile, said that she preferred to eat without bread and dairy.

Marina nodded silently and changed her plate without complaint. Tomás noticed. So did Leo. During breakfast, Paola talked about her work at an art gallery, her travels, and the parties she had recently attended. Tomás listened attentively, laughed at her stories, and asked questions. Paola spoke confidently, recounting anecdotes as if she were in an interview.

Leo didn’t say much. Marina watched everything silently from the kitchen. After lunch, Paola offered to take Leo to the garden. Tomás accepted without hesitation. Marina went to push the chair, but Paola stopped her with a smile. “I can do it. Don’t worry.” Tomás nodded. “Relax.” Marina stayed in the kitchen pretending to be busy, but she couldn’t help looking out the window. Paola pushed the chair carefully
,
talking the whole time. Leo didn’t respond, only nodding or staring straight ahead. It was clear he wasn’t comfortable, but he didn’t complain. That night, after everyone had gone to their rooms, Marina went upstairs to leave a clean towel in Leo’s room. When she entered, she found him awake, staring at the ceiling.

“You’re not sleepy,” Leo shook his head. “Did you enjoy Paola’s visit?” Leo shrugged. “I don’t like her,” he said without looking at her. Marina sat on the edge of the bed. “Why?” “I don’t know. She talks to me funny, like she’s faking it.” Marina didn’t say anything, she just stroked his forehead. “Sometimes you have to give people a chance. Maybe she’s just nervous.”

I don’t like the way he looks at me and laughs at everything. Marina let out a soft laugh. You weren’t very nice at first either, were you? Leo barely smiled. Then he became serious again. Do you think my dad likes me? Marina was silent for a few seconds. I don’t know, but the important thing is that you’re okay. Yes. Leo nodded.

Marina tucked him in, turned off the light, and left quietly. As she went downstairs, Marina couldn’t stop thinking about the way Tomás had looked at her during dinner. It wasn’t a romantic look, not at all, but it wasn’t the same as usual either. There was something in his eyes that unsettled her, as if he were searching for something, as if he didn’t know what to do with what he was feeling.

Paola returned to the house the next day, this time wearing a short dress, sandals, and carrying a designer bag. She arrived greeting everyone with air kisses, and Tomás welcomed her with a hug. Leo barely glanced at her. Marina maintained her usual demeanor, though something in her chest tightened slightly whenever she heard Paola speak. As the days passed, Paola began appearing more frequently.

Sometimes she brought desserts, other times movies. Leo didn’t come near her much when she was there. Marina noticed how the boy was starting to close that little window he had barely managed to open again. He didn’t draw as much anymore, he didn’t ask to play in the garden. He spent more time alone in his room with his headphones on. One afternoon, while Marina was folding laundry, she heard footsteps behind her. It was Tomás. “Everything alright?
“
“Yes, sir, Tomás.” “Yes, Tomás.” He watched her fold a t-shirt for a moment. “Thank you for keeping an eye on Leo. I’ve noticed he’s been more serious again lately.” “It’s normal. Children sense everything, even what you don’t say.” Tomás nodded.

Do you think he’s bothered that I’m seeing someone? Marina was silent for a few seconds. I don’t think he’s bothered, but I do think he’s afraid. Afraid of being cast aside again. Tomás lowered his gaze. He said nothing more. He left the laundromat without adding a word. That night, in Marina’s room, the silence was heavier than usual.

Not because someone was shouting, but because something inside her was beginning to stir, something she hadn’t asked for, something she wasn’t looking for, but something she could no longer completely deny. Paola started going to the house more often. At first it was once a week, then twice, and without anyone noticing, she was there almost every day.

Marina noticed a small box in the guest bathroom containing creams and perfumes, and a pair of sandals by the door. Tomás didn’t mention it, but it was clear they were seriously dating. When Paola stayed late, Marina would go up to her room faster than usual.

Although he could sometimes hear the laughter or soft music in the living room, Leo noticed it too. Even though he didn’t say much, his gestures were more serious, his answers shorter. He no longer asked to play or paint; he withdrew into his own world again. One day, Marina found his drawings crumpled in a drawer. When she asked him why, he just shrugged and said he didn’t feel like it anymore.

You don’t like how they’re turning out? I don’t want to draw. Marina didn’t insist; she just sat next to him and gently stroked his back. “Whenever you want, I’ll be here.” Leo nodded, but didn’t look up. Paola, meanwhile, maintained her friendly tone in front of everyone. She brought sugar-free desserts, detox juices, and bags of gifts for Tomás. She brought Leo a soccer cap from a team he didn’t even like. He thanked her, but never wore it.

Tomás, however, seemed delighted. He liked her confidence, her energy, her straightforward way of speaking. Paola moved around the house as if it already belonged to her. Sometimes she would go into the kitchen and open the refrigerator without asking. Marina would watch her out of the corner of her eye while she cooked.

“Doesn’t it bother you if I come in here?” he asked her one afternoon while looking for a water bottle. “It’s his house,” Marina replied without stopping chopping vegetables. Well, not yet. Marina said nothing. Tomás began to change too. He seemed more relaxed, he laughed more. He started going out in the afternoons with Paola, going to dinners, events, meetings.

He would sometimes arrive late, his tie loosened, smelling of expensive cologne. He thanked Marina constantly for taking care of Leo, for keeping the house tidy, for being so reliable, but he no longer spent as much time with his son as he used to. One night, while Leo was watching a movie, Paola approached him with a smile. “What are you watching?” “A superhero movie.” “Aren’t you bored of watching the same thing all the time?” Leo didn’t answer. “You could try something different.”

There are more interesting movies. I like superhero movies. Sure, sure. She said, lowering her voice. I’m just saying there are other things. But if that makes you happy. Marina, who was in the hallway, listened to the conversation from the shadows. She didn’t say anything, but felt a strange emptiness in her stomach. The next day, Paola brought tickets for a light show.

She told Tomás she wanted to take him and Leo along to spend time as a family. Tomás happily agreed. Marina packed a backpack with water, wipes, a sweater for Leo, and his medicine, just in case. She gave it to Paola before they left. “Here’s everything you might need. The sweater’s at the bottom.” “Perfect. Thanks, Marina,” Paola replied, smiling without really looking at her. Three hours later, they returned.

Leo didn’t say a word when he came in; he went straight to his room. Tomás came upstairs a few minutes later. Marina picked up the backpack and noticed that the sweater was in the same place, untouched, and the water bottle was still closed. There were cookie crumbs at the bottom, but none of the kind Leo could eat.

Paola came downstairs a little while later, phone in hand, talking loudly about dinner that night. Tomás followed her, looking relaxed. “So, how did Leo do?” Marina asked as she put away her backpack. “Fine, fine. He was quiet, but he didn’t complain. Although he didn’t seem to enjoy it much. Maybe he got bored.” Tomás didn’t say anything. Later, when Marina went to check on Leo, she found him lying down, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. She sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair. “That was a bad show.”

They wouldn’t let me see properly. We were so far away. And you didn’t say anything? Paola told me to see if I’d be brave and left me with a woman while she and my dad went ahead. Marina remained silent. Did your dad know? No. She told him she was going to get a snack. Marina stroked his hand, said nothing more, kissed him on the forehead, and sat there for a few minutes beside him, feeling the boy’s sadness cling to her skin. Days passed, and Tomás seemed to fall more and more in love.

He spoke of Paola with admiration, with enthusiasm. She began to offer her opinions on the furniture, the paintings, what could be improved. Sometimes she talked to Tomás about investments, about business, about her plans. He liked that. He felt he had recovered a part of himself he had lost, as if with Paola he could once again be a man of the world, not just a grieving father. One afternoon, while Marina was watering the plants, he heard laughter in the living room.

Tomás and Paola were looking at something on their phones. He touched her cheek with his fingers, and she leaned in to kiss him. Marina looked away. Leo was in the garden farther away, silently drawing. Only Marina went with him. “What are you doing?” “A drawing.” “Can I see?” Leo showed it to her. It was a robot in armor, but the background was black, all black. “It’s fighting. It’s alone.”

Marina swallowed, crouched down in front of him, and touched his arm. “You’re not alone, Leo. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” Leo nodded without looking at her. Then he went back to drawing. That night, while Marina was cleaning the kitchen, Paola came in unannounced. “Can I have some fruit?” “Sure.” Paola opened the refrigerator and took out an apple. Then she stood there for a few seconds, looking around.

Hey, Marina, you and Tomás have spent a lot of time together, haven’t you? Marina looked at her. Not as much as you. Paola smiled. I’m just saying he likes you a lot. He’s told me that several times. Thanks. But he’s also told me that sometimes you worry too much about things, that you don’t know how to separate the personal from the professional. Marina put down the rag she was holding and looked at her calmly. Separate what? Personal from professional.

I just wanted to say it so there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings. Marina didn’t answer. She closed the drawer and continued washing without looking back. Paola left the room with her usual smile, but with a different look, a look that said more than her words tried to hide. Everything seemed perfect, but it wasn’t.

Leo didn’t like to force a smile. He rarely smiled, and only when he truly felt like it. But lately, whenever Paola was near, he felt that strange pressure in his chest, that uncomfortable feeling that compelled him to put on a face he didn’t mean, to smile involuntarily, to pretend everything was alright, even when it wasn’t. Marina noticed it more and more.

At first, she thought it was all in her head, that maybe the boy was just having a rough time, but then she began to see the pattern. Every time Paola appeared, Leo became quiet, stiff, uncomfortably obedient, and he smiled, but in a way that hurts to watch, because there was no joy in it. One Saturday morning, Paola arrived with a large gift bag.

She walked in as if she already lived there, greeted everyone loudly, blew kisses, and placed her bag on the sofa. Tomás greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and a “You look beautiful today,” which made Marina pause for a few seconds in the kitchen. He sounded different, more engaged. “I brought something for Leo,” Paola announced. “I want him to see it and see if he likes it.” Tomás called his son. Leo slowly got out of his chair.

He looked sleepy and had a hint of distrust in his eyes. When he saw the bag, he frowned. “For me, yes, of course. I got you some new games. I don’t know if you’ll like them, but I thought of you.” Leo reached into the bag and pulled out a couple of boxes. They were jigsaw puzzles, the complicated kind, with lots of pieces: a castle, an old map.

Leo looked at them one by one and then looked up at Paola. “Thank you. Do you like them?” “Yes,” Marina said from the kitchen. That “yes” was soulless, flat, automatic, and the smile that accompanied her words was as fake as the cardboard covering the puzzle boxes. Paola leaned down to stroke his head, but Leo shifted slightly backward. It was barely noticeable, but Marina saw it.

Paola noticed it too, though she said nothing. She straightened up and gave Tomás a forced smile. “Maybe he needs time,” she said, as if she were talking about an object and not a child. “It’s okay, love. Give him a chance. He has a little trouble trusting,” Tomás replied without looking at Leo.

Later, while Paola and Tomás were in the garden having coffee, Marina joined Leo in the living room. The boy had one of the puzzles on the table, but he wasn’t touching it. “Do you want me to help you?” “No, you didn’t like them. They’re ugly.” “Why did you say yes?” Leo lowered his head, “Because if I tell him I don’t like them, he gets angry, and then my dad gets angry too.” Marina felt a tightness in her chest. She sat down next to him without saying anything at first.

Then she gently stroked his arm. “You have the right to say what you feel, Leo, even if the adults get upset. My dad doesn’t listen to me anymore, he only listens to Paola.” Marina closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I do listen to you.” Leo looked at her and nodded. Just that same afternoon, Paola suggested having a family meal in the garden. She said she had brought a recipe for vegetarian burgers that everyone would love.

Tomás enthusiastically went along with it. Marina helped prepare the grill, chopped vegetables, and served the dishes. Paola took charge of giving orders, moving things around, and commenting aloud that perhaps the house needed another garden table. Leo ate in silence. He had a different hamburger with a special bun because he couldn’t eat the same thing as everyone else. Paola asked him if it was good.

He responded with a weak “yes” and another smile that didn’t come from his heart. “You don’t seem very convinced,” Paola joked. “It’s delicious,” Leo repeated, looking down. “Well, the important thing is that you try. You’re old enough. You have to learn to enjoy new things.” Tomás didn’t say anything, he just poured himself more lemonade. After eating, Paola suggested taking a picture.

She said she wanted one with her new family. Tomás laughed and told her she was crazy. Marina stood still by the sink, listening. “Come on, Leo. Smile,” Paola said, taking out her phone. Leo pursed his lips. Paola leaned over him and put her arm around his shoulder. Tomás stood on the other side. One, two, three, click. Flash.

Leo lowered his gaze as soon as the photo was finished. “Stay still. Let’s take another one,” Paola insisted. “I don’t want to,” he replied almost in a whisper. “Leo, I said I don’t want to.” Leo’s tone was curt, but not shouty, simply clear. Tomás raised an eyebrow in surprise. “What’s wrong, son?” “I’m tired.” Paola straightened up, annoyed.

He stepped back a little, pretending he didn’t care. Tomás approached Leo. “Don’t be rude, champ. It was just a picture.” “I don’t want to. I already said so.” Tomás took a deep breath. Marina entered the garden with a tray in her hands. “Everything’s fine.” “Yeah,” Leo said without looking at her. “He’s a little sensitive today,” Paola said with a strained smile. “You know how kids are.”

Marina didn’t answer; she just placed the tray on the table. After that, Paola spent more time on her phone. She seemed annoyed, though she tried to hide it. Tomás tried to make her laugh, but she was no longer in the mood. Leo went to his room in the afternoon and didn’t come out again.

The next day, while Marina was preparing breakfast, Tomás came downstairs, looking more serious than usual. He poured himself some coffee and stood by the window. “What happened with Leo yesterday? What does she mean?” he wondered. “Paola says he was rude.” Marina wiped her hands on her apron and looked at him. “Leo wasn’t rude, he just didn’t want to take a picture.” Tomás frowned. “Sometimes I feel like Paola tries to get closer to him, and he pushes her away.”

Sometimes, when you feel something isn’t real, you prefer to walk away. Tomás looked at her, confused, but said nothing more. Hours later, Paola returned to the house. This time she arrived more serious, wearing dark glasses and no makeup. She greeted everyone quickly and went straight to Tomás’s room. Leo hid in the TV room, and Marina went upstairs to put away clean clothes.

In the hallway, she overheard Paola talking to someone on the phone. “Yes, I know, but I have to put up with it. Everything’s going according to plan. No, he doesn’t suspect a thing. And the boy, well, the boy’s a handful, but nothing I can’t handle.” Marina froze. She didn’t know whether to keep walking or back away. She didn’t hear anything else.

She turned around and went downstairs, her heart pounding. Leo was in the armchair drawing again. This time there was no black background, just a tree. And under the tree, a boy sat alone, his face serious. “Do you want me to tell you a joke?” Marina asked, sitting down beside him. “It’s good. Terrible.”

Leo smiled just a little. Okay, but only once. Marina smiled too. The smile was small, but not forced. Sunday afternoon, the house was quiet. Outside, the sky looked gray and heavy, as if it might rain at any moment. Inside, Tomás had gone out with Paola to lunch with some friends, and Marina stayed home with Leo.

They took advantage of the quiet to make a cookie recipe he liked, chocolate chip cookies, but with an extra touch of vanilla that only Marina knew how to measure. The boy was in a good mood all morning. He smiled several times and even told Marina a joke he had seen in a video.

They laughed together, sharing that familiar connection that had become a part of their daily lives. Leo was happy because his dad had promised to come home early so the three of them could watch a movie. He’d told him, “This time I won’t let it go. Today I’m switching off from everything. I promise.” But the hours passed. The sky grew darker. The rain didn’t come, but time kept ticking.

Leo stared impatiently at the garden gate. At 8 p.m., he approached Marina and whispered, “He’s not coming back, is he? He said he’d be back early. Maybe he’s running late, but he’ll definitely be here.” Leo didn’t answer; he just quietly went to his room. Marina felt a tightness in her chest, but she didn’t stop him. Another 30 minutes passed.

Tomás hadn’t shown up. Marina was in the kitchen clearing away the last of dinner when she heard the front door burst open. It was Paola alone. She rushed in, her heels clicking on the floor, her face tense. “Where’s Leo?” Marina looked at her, surprised by her tone. “In his room, I think.”

Paola turned on her heel and walked straight toward the stairs. “Is something wrong?” “Yes.” “That boy needs to learn how to behave.” Marina dropped the rag on the counter and followed her, her heart pounding. She went upstairs and caught sight of Paola opening Leo’s bedroom door without knocking. “Do you think it’s funny to embarrass me?” Paola blurted out as soon as she entered.

Who do you think you are? Leo was in his bed with the blanket pulled up to his waist, staring at her blankly. What are you talking about? Don’t play innocent. So you’re going around telling your dad you don’t like spending time with me, that you feel uncomfortable. Leo opened his mouth to reply, but didn’t get the chance. What do you think, that you’re in charge here? That your sad face is going to make everyone do what you want? Marina arrived at the door just as Paola raised her voice even more.

You’re not going to ruin this for me, understand? You’re not the center of the universe. You’re a spoiled, capricious child. And I’m fed up. Hey, Marina’s voice was so loud that even Paola took a step back. What’s wrong with you? What do you think you’re doing? Paola glared at her. I’m talking to him. Or maybe not. No. Not like this, not by yelling at him, not by humiliating him. Stay out of it. You’re not his mother, and neither are you.

The silence that followed was thick. Leo lay motionless in his bed, his eyes wide. Paola clenched her jaw. Marina stepped forward, placing herself between her and the boy. “Calm him down. You’re crossing a very serious line. You’re just the employee. Don’t get carried away.”

And you’re a woman who just yelled at a child in a wheelchair as if he were your enemy. That’s not called authority, that’s called cruelty. Paola’s eyes burned. She swallowed and looked down for a second. Then she turned and left the room without saying another word. Marina stood there, her heart pounding in her ears. She turned to Leo, who still had the same frozen expression. “Are you okay?” Leo didn’t answer.

His eyes were glassy, ​​but he wasn’t crying. Marina came over and sat beside him. “It’s over now.” “Yes.” Leo nodded slowly. “Why is she like this with me?” Marina didn’t know what to say, she just hugged him slowly, gently. He let her hug him without moving. “I don’t want her here,” Leo murmured. “I don’t want her around. I know that.”

Minutes later, Tomás walked through the front door. Tiredness was evident in his eyes, and his jacket was damp from the raindrops that had finally fallen. He took off his shoes, left his keys on the console table in the entryway, and walked upstairs at a leisurely pace. He found Paola in her room, sitting on the bed with a victim’s expression. Everything’s fine. Leo spoke rudely to me.

Tomás frowned. “What? I went in to talk to him because I feel really uncomfortable. He’s been avoiding me, and tonight he completely ignored me. I asked him if he had a problem with me, and he answered sarcastically. Sarcasm? Yes. He was rude. And Marina jumped in to defend him like I was a witch.”

Tomás remained silent, unsure what to believe. He went downstairs to the kitchen in search of answers. Marina was washing a couple of glasses. When she saw him come in, she turned around. “What happened upstairs?” Marina stared at him. “She yelled at him. She said things a child should never hear. She treated him like a burden, like he was worthless.” “Are you sure?” I heard her.

I was there. I went in because I couldn’t stay silent. Tomás ran a hand over his face. He looked shaken. Leo’s okay. He’s scared, but he’s calm. Tomás stood there motionless, processing. He didn’t say anything else. He went slowly upstairs to his son’s room. He knocked on the door. Leo didn’t answer, but Tomás went in anyway.

He saw him in bed, staring at the wall. Everything’s fine, champ. Leo didn’t turn around. What happened with Paola? Nothing. Tomás approached. Can you tell me the truth? Leo turned slowly. He looked tired. She hates me. Don’t say that, he yelled at me. She said I was ruining her, that I was a spoiled brat. Tomás swallowed hard.

 

He remained silent for a few seconds. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” “Because you love her and you don’t listen to me anymore.” Tomás felt a tightness in his chest. He sat down beside him, didn’t hug him, just stood there speechless. He didn’t sleep that night. He spent hours staring at the ceiling, listening to every sound in the house. He didn’t see Paola again until the next day.

She tried to approach him, to act as if nothing had happened, but Tomás didn’t react the same way. It wasn’t a radical change, just something in the way he looked at her—colder, more distant. And while all this was happening, Marina was still in the kitchen preparing breakfast as she did every morning. But something about her hands seemed different, firmer, more decisive, because after what she had seen, she could no longer pretend she didn’t know, and she knew this was just the beginning. Monday dawned quieter than usual.

No one was in the kitchen before 9:00. Not Tomás, not Paola, not even Leo, only Marina, as always, wearing her apron and with her hair up, moving between the coffee maker, the stove, and the refrigerator. The silence was so heavy that not even the soft music on the radio could break it. At 9:30, Tomás came downstairs.

He looked tired. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair was unkempt, and his gaze was distant. Marina served him coffee. Without a word, he thanked her quietly and sat down at the table as if his body were heavy. Five minutes passed without a word being spoken, then he was the first to break the silence. “How did Leo sleep?” “Quietly. He didn’t want to come downstairs.”

I brought her breakfast up a little while ago. Did she say anything else about last night? Marina shook her head. She only said she didn’t want to see her anymore. Tomás nodded, unsurprised. He stirred his coffee several times with the small spoon. Even though there was no more sugar to dissolve, I don’t know what to do, he said suddenly. Paola says one thing, Leo says another. And me, what did you see? Marina interrupted. Tomás looked up, their eyes met.

She wasn’t speaking with accusation or anger. She just wanted to know if he, too, had seen what everyone else was already feeling. I saw Leo walking farther and farther away, just like when Clara had first happened. So, there wasn’t much to think about. Tomás remained silent. His brow was furrowed, as if something hurt him. He picked up his mug, took a sip, and stared out the window. Outside, the sun was shining brightly, but inside the house, everything was still gray.

An hour later, Paola came downstairs. She was wearing designer sweatpants, sunglasses (even though they were indoors), and her cell phone was glued to her ear. She went into the kitchen without looking at anyone, opened the refrigerator, took out a yogurt, and came back out without even saying hello.

Marina said nothing, nor did Tomás, but the discomfort hung in the air like thick smoke. Later, while Marina was folding laundry, she heard Paola talking in the guest room. The door was ajar. It wasn’t intentional, but she didn’t seem to care. She was on speakerphone. “Yeah, obviously. It’s still the same. Tomás is a mess. That kid is doing everything he can to separate us. But don’t worry, I’ve got him figured out.”

I’m going to make him look like the problem. A traumatized child and a nanny who thinks she’s his mother. You leave him to me. Marina froze. She couldn’t move. Her heart began to race. She clutched the towel in her hands and forced herself to silently back away. She couldn’t stay there any longer. She went straight upstairs to Leo’s room.

The boy was putting together a puzzle, but listlessly watched him come in and gave him a tired smile. “Is something wrong, Leo?” He shook his head. “Are you sure? Paola was here. She didn’t say anything, but she gave me a dirty look.” Marina sat down next to him. “Look, what happened last night wasn’t right, but your dad’s thinking, he’s confused. That’s all.”

“He’s going to choose her,” Leo said without looking at her. “He always chooses someone else.” “Why do you say that?” “Because he never asks me how I feel. He only believes what other people tell him.” Marina remained silent. She couldn’t contradict him. Leo was right. In the afternoon, Tomás went upstairs to talk to Leo. Marina wasn’t there, but later the boy told her that the conversation was brief.

He asked me if I wanted Paola to leave. And what did you tell him? I said yes. And what did he say? That he’d think about it. Marina closed her eyes. She felt a mixture of anger and sadness. What more did Tomás need to understand? Hours later, while she was preparing dinner, Paola came into the kitchen. This time she did say hello. Hi, Marina. What’s good for dinner today? Noodle soup, rice, and chicken in sauce.

Not too basic. Leo likes it that way. Of course, everything for the prince. Marina stopped. Paola had said it jokingly, but the sarcasm was obvious. Would you like me to serve you something different? No, it’s fine. Anyway, at this point I don’t even know if they’re going to invite me to dinner. Marina didn’t answer.

“You know what I think?” Paola added as she poured herself some water. “Sometimes people who seem nice are just meddling where they shouldn’t.” Marina looked at her, this time not hiding anything, adding, “Other times, people who seem strong are just pretending nobody likes them.” Paola pursed her lips, turned around, and left the kitchen. That night, Tomás ate dinner alone.

Leo didn’t want to go downstairs, and Paola said she wasn’t hungry. Marina left his plate set, as usual, but he barely touched it. “Is everything alright?” she asked as she cleared the table. “I don’t know. I feel like a stranger in my own home. Maybe because something’s not right.” Tomás looked at her. “Do you think I made a mistake? I think sometimes you want to feel good so badly that you don’t realize what you’re sacrificing to achieve it.” “And what are you sacrificing, Marina?” Marina remained silent. She hadn’t expected that question. “Nothing,” she lied.

But Tomás looked at her as if he knew it wasn’t true. The next day, Sandra, Tomás’s assistant, called him from the office. She told him they needed to sign some important documents. Tomás used the excuse to go out for a while. Paola took advantage of being alone at home with Marina and Leo.

It wasn’t long before she started dropping hints, comments like, “Oh, how peaceful the house is when certain adults don’t interfere.” Or, “I love it when children understand their place.” Marina bit her tongue, but everything changed when Leo came downstairs to the living room and Paola asked him if he wanted to watch a movie.

The boy, without hesitation, said no. “Not again with your tantrums. I don’t want to see her with you.” Paola looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, kid, you’d better start cooperating. I’m going to be here for a long time, so get used to it.” Marina walked in just then. She heard everything. She couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s it.” Paola turned around. “What did you say?” “That’s enough. I’m not going to let you talk to her like that again.”

You have no authority to tell me what to do, and you have no right to mistreat anyone, much less a child who has been through so much. Leo didn’t move; he just stared at Marina with wide, hopeful eyes. At that moment, the front door opened. Tomás came in with a folder in his hand and stopped when he saw the scene.

No one moved, no one spoke, but one thing hung in the air: the uncomfortable, direct truth, impossible to ignore. The sun beat down that afternoon. It was one of those days when the air feels thick and the heat seeps into every corner.

But even so, the garden was full of life, the trees green, the grass freshly cut, and a few butterflies fluttering among the plants. Leo insisted on going outside for a while. He didn’t want to be cooped up. He didn’t want to be near Paola. Marina put sunscreen on him, gave him his bottle of cold water, and helped him down the small ramp that led to the garden. They settled down in the shade of a tree.

She had a book in her hand and he had a sketchbook. They didn’t talk much, but they felt comfortable. “Do you mind if I step away for a bit?” Marina asked after a while. “I have to check on the rice. I promise I’ll be back in five minutes.” “No problem,” Leo said without looking up from his drawing. “Shout if anything happens.” Leo nodded.

Marina got up, patted her on the shoulder, and went back inside. She walked quickly to the kitchen, unaware that inside, Paola was coming down the stairs, phone in hand, frowning. She’d just had a fight with someone over text; it was obvious. She entered the kitchen without saying hello. Marina only caught a glimpse of her. “Where’s the boy?” “In the garden.”

I was just with him. I was only upstairs for a minute. I’ll be right back. Paola didn’t say anything, turned around, and left. Outside. Leo was still focused on his drawing. He heard footsteps and thought it was Marina. When he looked up and saw Paola approaching, he lowered his head. “Don’t you get tired of being alone?” she said, stopping beside him. Leo didn’t answer.

“You’re pushing yourself aside. Don’t come crying later because nobody likes you.” Leo gripped his pencil tightly without looking at her. “You need to start acting like a normal kid. Enough with all the drama.” Leo put his pencil down on his notebook. “Why do you hate me? Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody hates you, but you’re a pain in the neck. Always whining, always with your sad faces.”

You’re quite big now, aren’t you? Leo tried to turn his chair around to move away, but the wheel got stuck on a tree root. Paola didn’t move to help him. See? You can’t even move on your own without making a scene. Leo struggled with the wheel, annoyed. Paola, irritated, took a step toward him and gave him a weak push.

But it only took a second to unbalance the chair, just one second, but it was enough. The chair fell sideways. Leo’s body hit the grass with a thud. The notebook flew a few inches. His head hit the ground, though not very hard. The shock was greater than the impact. “Oh, no,” Paola said, but she didn’t move. She stood there, nervous, looking at the boy on the ground.

“Leo!” Marina shouted from the house. She had seen everything from the doorway. She ran into the garden without thinking. In less than three seconds, she was kneeling beside him, touching his face, checking that he could move his arms and hands, that there was no blood. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” Leo was trembling. His eyes were filled with tears, but he wasn’t crying loudly, he just murmured.

It hurt a little, but he pushed me. Marina froze. What? Paola pushed me. Marina turned around furiously. Paola was still standing, nervous, with her hands in her hair. It was an accident. He choked. I just wanted to help him. Help. Is that how you help him? I didn’t push him hard, Paola just stammered, but her voice sounded hollow. Marina didn’t answer. Carefully, she lifted Leo. She straightened the chair forcefully and sat him back down.

She straightened his shirt, wiped the dirt from his face with a napkin she took from her pocket, and hugged him. A firm, long hug, the kind that tries to calm everything. It’s over now. I’m here. Don’t worry. I promise this won’t happen again. Leo remained silent, his head resting on her shoulder. Tomás arrived 20 minutes later. Marina intercepted him at the door before he could even take off his jacket. We need to talk.

What happened? Leo had an accident. Tomás turned pale. Where is he? He’s better now. It was in the garden. He fell off his chair. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Tomás looked at her, confused. Then Paola pushed him. Not very hard, but he said so, and I saw him on the ground. She didn’t help him. She didn’t do anything. Tomás ran his hands over his face. He couldn’t believe it. He ran upstairs to see his son. Marina followed him from a distance.

Leo was lying down. He had a cold gel pack on his head and his crumpled notebook on the nightstand. “Dad, are you okay?” “Yes, it hurts a little, but I’m fine now.” “Tell me the truth. Did he push you?” Leo didn’t answer, he just looked down. “I don’t want him to come back.” Tomás stroked his hair.

Then he went downstairs, serious, straight to Paola’s room. She was already getting ready to leave. When she saw him come in, she crossed her arms. “They already told you about the drama.” “It wasn’t a drama. He fell. And you didn’t help him. He was moving on his own. The chair got stuck. I was alone. It doesn’t matter anymore. You can’t stay here.” “What? You heard, ‘You can’t stay here.’” Paola looked at him as if she didn’t understand. “Are you kicking me out?” “Yes.”

This has crossed the line. I don’t want you anywhere near my son or me. Paola laughed in disbelief. Why? Because of that little girl you have working downstairs. She’s putting things in your head. Marina only tells the truth, and so does Leo. Of course, both of them are perfect, she shouted, losing her temper. You know what? You’re going to regret this.

Tomás didn’t answer, he just opened the door and pointed outside. Paola grabbed her bag angrily, stormed out, and slammed the door shut without looking back. In the living room, Marina was hugging Leo, who had already come downstairs. She wrapped him in a blanket and gave him some hot tea. Tomás watched them from the stairs.

For the first time in weeks, she saw clearly what had always been right in front of her eyes. Since the incident in the garden, the whole house seemed to breathe differently. Paola was gone. Tomás had kicked her out bluntly. Leo seemed calmer, and although he didn’t say much about it, everyone could see that he had finally let go of something that had been weighing on him for weeks.

However, things didn’t feel right for Marina. Not because of Paola or what had happened, but because something inside her was beginning to break. It wasn’t anger, it was exhaustion—not physical exhaustion, but emotional exhaustion. She had spent so much time silent, enduring, helping without expecting anything in return. And even now, as everything was slowly falling into place, she felt like she was the only one who didn’t belong.

It was as if the house belonged to everyone but her. That morning, while she was making pancakes for Leo, Tomás came downstairs early. He seemed more relaxed, more present. He helped her set the table, poured juice for the boy, and even cracked a few jokes. “I don’t know how you do it, Marina,” he said. “They taste better when you make them.”

“Just mix it with care,” she replied, smiling. “And you don’t sit with us. I prefer to wait. I don’t like to eat in a hurry.” Tomás looked at her, but didn’t insist. After breakfast, Leo stayed behind watching cartoons, and Tomás went out to the garden to take a call. Marina stayed behind cleaning the kitchen. Every plate, every dishcloth, every corner made her think of everything that had happened, everything she had kept silent about, the times Paola had subtly humiliated her, the times she had to grit her teeth when she heard how Paola treated Leo, how every day she pretended she felt nothing.

Not for Tomás, nor for the life that was beginning to grow there, right before her eyes. She couldn’t take it anymore. She put the dishes away more forcefully than necessary, dried the bar quickly, and arranged the folded napkins as always, but with tense hands. She wasn’t angry with anyone, only with herself, for having remained silent for so long. Tomás came in through the garden door and stared at her from the entrance.

“Everything alright?” “Yes,” she said without turning to look at him. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” Tomás walked to the sink and leaned against the counter. “Do you want to talk?” “What good would that do?” Tomás frowned. “What?” Marina finally turned and looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve been here from the beginning. I’ve seen everything. I’ve taken care of Leo as if he were my own.”

I’ve endured insults, humiliation, dirty looks, and words I don’t deserve. And I did it all because that child matters to me, and because I thought I mattered here too. Tomás was speechless. He hadn’t expected that. He’d never seen her like this. Marina wasn’t screaming, she wasn’t crying. But her voice was trembling, and that hurt more than any scream. You know what Paola told me. Do you know how she treated Leo? You saw it, and you still doubted me. You doubted me.

And that, that was the worst part. Tomás stepped forward. “I never doubted you, Marina. I doubted myself, my decisions, everything. Well then, do something, because I can’t keep being the one who gives everything and gets nothing.” A heavy silence fell, the kind that hurts. “Do you want to leave?” “No,” Marina replied, lowering her gaze, “but I also don’t want to stay feeling invisible.” Tomás took a deep breath. “You’re not invisible, Marina.”

You’re the only real thing I have in this house. She looked at him in surprise, but before she could answer, Leo rushed in—or as fast as he could move in his electric wheelchair—a sheet of paper in his hand. “Marina, look what I did.” Marina crouched down to his level, tears streaming down her face that she didn’t want to show.

What’s that? It’s a drawing of the three of us: you, my dad, and me. Look, here you are with your apron, he’s with his cell phone, and I’m in my chair, but we’re all smiling. Marina hugged him tightly. Tomás looked at them, and at that moment something inside him settled, as if he could finally see clearly what was in front of him, as if the blindfold he hadn’t known he was wearing had finally fallen away.

Later, Marina went up to her room. She was exhausted. She sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the drawing. It was simple, with clumsy lines and poorly combined colors, but to her it was the most precious thing in the world. There was a knock at the door. It was Tomás. “Can I come in?” “Yes.” He came in and stood in the doorway. “You’re right about everything you said.” Marina looked down.

I didn’t say it to get you to agree with me. I said it because I couldn’t carry him alone anymore. Tomás walked until he was standing in front of her. I don’t want you to feel alone, or invisible. I want you to know that thanks to you, Leo became a child again, and I became a person again. Marina looked at him in silence. I’m broken too, Marina, but you’ve been the glue, and I don’t know how to thank you for that.

She smiled, but sadly. “You don’t have to thank me, you just have to be here.” Tomás nodded. “Then I’ll stay here.” And he didn’t move. He sat beside her without touching her, without saying anything else. He just stayed there, with her by his side, and for the first time in a long time, Marina didn’t feel alone. The calendar read the 24th. It was Leo’s birthday, eight years old.

Marina had written it down on a piece of paper the first month she arrived at the house. She didn’t need reminders, but she wrote it down anyway as a silent promise that this day wouldn’t go unnoticed. Tomás, for his part, had been planning something special for several days. He wasn’t the type of man who threw parties, but this time he wanted to do things differently.

She wanted to make up for what she hadn’t been able to do the last two years. Sandra, her assistant, helped her hire a company that did simple home decorations. She ordered balloons, a candy table, a piñata—although Leo couldn’t break it, he could at least watch it—and a cake. She wanted something quiet and pretty. Leo had told her he didn’t want children or strangers.

He just wanted to be with those who loved him. Everything was going well until Tomás made the mistake of inviting Paola. Not directly, not with words, but with a message she didn’t let slide: a story he posted on social media with a balloon bearing the number eight.

Paola saw it, replied with a heart emoji, and the next day, without warning, arrived with a huge gift wrapped in gold paper and a red bow. Marina opened the door. “Hi,” Paola said casually. “Is Tomás here? He’s in the garden decorating. I’ve come to congratulate the boy. May I come in?” Marina didn’t move.

For a second she thought about saying no, but Leo was in his room waiting for everything to be perfect, and making a scene wasn’t an option. “Sure,” she said without emotion. Paola came in as if she’d never left. She greeted the employees with a smile. She walked confidently to the garden, and when Tomás saw her, his face went pale. “What are you doing here?” “I came to see the birthday boy.” “Relax, I’m not here to fight.” Tomás swallowed hard.

He wanted to tell her to leave, but she was already there with gifts, with a smile, with her presence. He glanced toward the house and there was Leo watching everything from the window. “Five minutes,” Tomás said. “Whatever you say,” she replied. The party was simple. Marina made star-shaped ham sandwiches, prepared natural strawberry water, played cartoon music, and hung up some garlands she had saved from the previous year.

Tomás took care of inflating the balloon and setting up a table with sweets. Leo came downstairs wearing his favorite shirt, the blue one with stripes, his face beaming. It was the first time in a long time that he’d looked so happy so early in the morning. Paola tried to approach him with the gift. “Look, Leo, I brought you something amazing.” Leo looked at her. Then he looked at Marina, and then at his dad.

She said nothing, just nodded and received the package without emotion. “You’re not going to open it later, are you?” the boy said. Paola smiled tensely, took a few steps back, and sat in a corner of the garden. The party continued. They sang “Las Mañanitas.” Tomás placed the birthday crown on her head, and Leo blew out the candle with all his might. Everyone applauded, even Paola.

After the cake, Tomás approached Marina. “Thank you for all of this. I know you did more than you were supposed to. It’s not for you, it’s for him. I appreciate it nonetheless.” Marina looked at him with a half-smile, and their eyes met unexpectedly.

It wasn’t just any look; it was one of those that says more than you’re willing to admit. In the distance, Paola watched them. The expression on her face changed. She smiled, but her eyes didn’t reflect it. At the end of the afternoon, when everyone was packing up, Tomás approached Paola. “Thanks for coming, but it’s time.” “Are you trying to get rid of me?” “No, I just think you’ve done your part.” Paola leaned closer than necessary. “What about her?” “She’s done hers too.”

It’s not the same. Of course not. She has the child on her side. I only have what you gave me, which you’re not giving me anymore. Tomás didn’t answer, he just nodded toward the door. “I’m going to tell you something, Tomás,” Paola said in a low voice. “Be careful with people who seem nice; sometimes they’re hiding something worse than themselves.” Tomás didn’t reply.

Paola left the house, her heels clicking on the floor. Marina watched her go by from the kitchen. That night, Leo went upstairs with his drawing and stuck it on his bedroom door. It was a party with a big sun and three people: him, Marina, and his dad. Paola wasn’t there.

“Did you enjoy your birthday?” Marina asked as she tucked him in. “Yes, it was the best.” “And the present you didn’t open, Leo thought about it, can I donate it?” “Sure.” Marina hugged him. She hugged him tightly, with love. One of those hugs that doesn’t need words. Downstairs, Tomás was looking at the photos from the day on his phone. Leo was smiling in every one. Paola wasn’t in any of them.

After the birthday party, the house fell silent again. Not the tense, awkward silence of before, but a different kind of silence, a restful one, like when someone finally goes to bed after a long day. Marina gathered up the last balloons that had stuck to the ceiling while Leo watched television with his feet covered by a blanket.

Tomás was in his office, but with the door open. It hadn’t happened in a long time. Now he seemed more present, more available. Marina went upstairs to bring Leo a glass of milk with cinnamon. The boy greeted her with a tired but happy smile. He drank it slowly while she sat down beside him on the bed. “Did you like how we decorated everything?” “Yes.”

“What I liked most was the cartoon music,” Leo said, smiling. “And the star-shaped sandwiches. That was your idea.” “Yes, yes. You drew it weeks ago. You said you wanted food that looked fun.” Leo chuckled softly. “Oh, yes. I’d forgotten.” There was a moment of silence. Marina thought he was about to fall asleep, but then Leo spoke softly, almost like a secret.

You know what I didn’t like? What? That my dad let her in. Marina looked at him silently. He told me she wasn’t coming back, but she came and stayed for a while. And even though she didn’t do anything, I felt like things could get ugly again. Did you tell him? No, because he’ll probably tell me it wasn’t a big deal, that it was just a visit, that I shouldn’t worry. He always says that. Marina sighed. Sometimes adults get confused too.

They want to do the right thing, but they don’t always know how. Leo looked down. I never want her to come back. Are you sure? Yes. When she’s around, I feel like I don’t matter, like I can’t speak, like my chest is being squeezed. Marina stroked his head. Gently. I’ll keep an eye out. Yes. I won’t let that happen again.

Are you going to stay? Yes, Leo. I’m going to stay. Even if my dad gets mad. He’s not mad, he’s just learning. Leo nodded. Slowly, he closed his eyes and fell asleep with the empty glass in his hands. Minutes later, Tomás came upstairs. Marina was still in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Leo take deep breaths. Tomás stopped in the doorway, watching them. Is everything alright? Yes.

Is she asleep already? Did she say anything to you? Yes, she answered without moving. That she doesn’t want to see her anymore. Tomás lowered his gaze. She told me the same thing, not so clearly, but I noticed. And what are you going to do? I’m not going to invite her again. Are you sure? I’m sure.

Tomás walked slowly to the edge of the bed and sat down on the opposite side from Marina. They remained like that in silence with Leo asleep between them, as if they were a family that didn’t yet know what to call themselves. “Sometimes I feel like a failure as a dad,” Tomás said suddenly. “I feel like I don’t know how to protect him. You do what you can, but you need to listen more.” “I know.”

He doesn’t need you to save him, he just needs you to be there, to listen to him, to look at him.” Tomás nodded. “Thank you, Marina.” She didn’t answer, she just stood up silently, tucked the baby in, and left the room. That night, in her room, Marina lay with her eyes open.

She felt something was about to change, but she didn’t know if it was good or bad. Her heart felt restless, like when you know something is coming, but you can’t stop it. The next day at breakfast, Leo was quiet, but not sad. He played with his cereal, making circles with his spoon. Tomás came downstairs with his hair still damp and a wrinkled shirt. Marina smoothed it down with a quick swipe of her hand. He smiled at her gratefully.

“What if we do something this afternoon?” Tomás asked as he sat down. “You choose, Leo. Can I think about it?” “Sure, but don’t take too long, because I want to cancel everything to be with you.” Leo looked up. It was unusual for his dad to talk like that. Marina noticed how the boy’s eyes lit up, even though he tried to hide it.

“We can watch the robot movie, the second one. Deal,” Tomás said, giving a thumbs-up. The morning passed peacefully. Marina did laundry, tidied the maid’s quarters, and made pasta for lunch. Leo drew on the terrace, and Tomás made a few calls from his study, though he wasn’t as shut away as before. After lunch, the three of them sat in the living room.

Tomás put on the movie and Marina brought popcorn. Leo was in the middle with a blanket over his legs. Halfway through the movie, he leaned toward his dad. “Dad, what happened? I want to tell you something.” “Tell me.” “I don’t want you looking for Paola anymore.” Tomás turned off the television. Marina remained still.

“I wasn’t going to do it anymore,” he replied. “I promise. Even if you’re left alone. I’m not alone. I’m with you.” Leo looked at Marina, then back at his father, and then at Marina again. Tomás swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. “Yes, with Marina too.” Leo smiled, but this time it wasn’t a forced smile, it was genuine, one of those smiles that grows slowly but lasts a long time. That night, while Marina was making tea, Tomás went over to the kitchen counter.

Can I ask you something? Sure. Do you want to stay here? Marina looked at him. It depends on what. On you looking at me straight in the eye, not as the employee, not as the woman who takes care of your son, but as what I am: a person who feels, who sometimes gets tired, who is giving more than she shows. Tomás stared at her.

And if I told you I’m already doing it, then I’d stay. Tomás smiled. Marina did too. They didn’t need to say more. And upstairs in his room, Leo was drawing again, now with bright colors. He was drawing a house, a tree, and three figures holding hands. It didn’t hurt him so much to speak anymore because what he’d said that afternoon had finally been heard. It was Thursday afternoon.

The sky was partly cloudy, and there was that strange feeling you get when something’s about to happen, even though you don’t yet know what. Tomás had left for an important meeting he couldn’t postpone. Marina stayed behind to take charge, as usual. Leo was in the living room, calmly watching his favorite cartoon. They had already eaten, and the atmosphere felt peaceful.

Marina was clearing the dining room table when she heard the doorbell. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and Tomás hadn’t mentioned any visitors either. She wiped her hands with the dish towel and went to open the door, frowning. And there was Paola, standing with her arms crossed, a serious expression on her face, and a small bag slung over her shoulder. She wasn’t wearing makeup, nor did she have her usual heavy attitude.

It was obvious she wasn’t there to fake a smile. “Hi,” she said curtly. “What are you doing here? I came to talk to Tomás.” “He’s not here, I know, but I’m going to come in anyway, right?” Paola pushed the door open gently but firmly. “You’re not going to shut the door on me.” “No, after all. You have nothing left to do here, Paola.” He was clear. “I didn’t come to see him. I came to see you.”

Marina froze for a second. Then she frowned. At me. Yes, because I’m tired of pretending I don’t see what’s happening. I don’t understand. Of course you understand. You interfered, you took advantage of the pain, the empty house, the child, you played the good girl, the indispensable one, and you succeeded. You pushed me out of her life. Marina let go of the doorknob. I didn’t push you out.

You brought this on yourself with your behavior. Don’t give me any of that soap opera nonsense. You’re not as innocent as you seem. You came between Tomás and me from day one. I didn’t interfere with anyone. You treated Leo like he was a nuisance. You yelled at him, pushed him, humiliated him. That’s not my fault.

And what are you? A saint? A woman who takes care of children because she has a huge heart? No, you too have your story, your pain, your need to fill voids. Yes, I have my story, like everyone else, but I didn’t come to this house looking for anything. I just wanted to work in peace, and I ended up loving them more than I ever imagined. How convenient, isn’t it? How human.

Paola glared at her, barely contained. She walked to the center of the room. Leo, who had heard voices, was already in the hallway, silently watching from his chair. “What are you doing here?” he said, his voice trembling. Paola looked at him, surprised. “Relax, I didn’t come for you. Then leave.” Marina went to Leo and stood beside him like a shield. “You heard her, ‘You have no business here. I’m leaving,’” Paola said.

But first, I want you to listen carefully. Why? Because you think you won, but you didn’t. You’re left with a house full of memories, a man who doesn’t know what he wants, and a child who sees you as his salvation, but who will one day turn his back on you when you don’t give him what he needs. That’s what you think of him, and that’s what I think of everyone.

Nobody stays where they don’t belong. Well, I’m staying, not because it’s convenient for me, I’m staying because I love them and because when you truly love someone, you don’t run away. Paola laughed half-heartedly. We’ll see how long that lasts. Tomás arrived at that moment, opened the door without knowing what was happening, and found himself confronted by the scene.

Marina stood firm, Leo in his chair behind her, and Paola in the center of the room, her eyes blazing. “What’s going on here?” “Nothing,” Paola said, turning to him. “I just came to say goodbye. I told you not to come back, and you said a lot of things, but it doesn’t matter anymore, I’m leaving. I just came to see what you’ve lost.” Tomás didn’t answer. He looked at her with a mixture of disappointment and pity.

Paola, don’t say anything. I know, I understand. She went to the door and before leaving, she gave Marina one last look. Good luck with your new role. It’s not easy being the perfect woman. Someday you’re going to make a mistake, and I’ll be there to see it. She left, and the door closed. The sound echoed through the house like an emotional slam.

Tomás took a deep breath, ran a hand over his face, looked at Leo, who still wasn’t moving, then at Marina. “Are you okay?” “Yes.” “What did he say?” “Nothing I didn’t already know.” Tomás went over and touched Leo’s shoulder. “Are you okay, son?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “Dad.” “What?” “Don’t let him come back.” “He’s not coming back.”

Marina glanced at him and for the first time saw in Tomás a confidence she hadn’t had before. He wasn’t hesitating, he wasn’t thinking about what to say, he was just there, sure of what he was saying. “Thank you,” Leo said softly. Marina stroked his hair and smiled at him. Then she went to the kitchen. She needed a glass of water. Her hands were trembling slightly. Tomás followed her. “I shouldn’t have let him get close again,” she said without turning to look at him. “But you did.” “I did.”

And now there’s no room for error. He can’t go through this again. I know it. And what are you going to do now? Tomás remained silent. Then he moved closer. What he should have done from the beginning. Be with you, listen, take care of you, and if you let me, fix everything. Marina looked at him. She didn’t say yes, she didn’t say no, she just looked at him. And in her eyes, for the first time, there was no fear. There was truth.

The house fell silent after Paola left. A heavy silence, not because of what was said, but because of what wasn’t. It was one of those moments where you don’t need to shout for everything to weigh heavily. Tomás closed the door slowly, without looking back. He stood there for a few seconds, his hand on the handle, as if waiting for something more, as if waiting for the air to clear on its own. It didn’t. He turned slowly and walked toward the living room.

Marina was gone. Neither was Leo. The living room still had its cushions askew, the curtains open, and a half-finished cup on the table. Everything seemed normal, but it wasn’t. Nothing had been normal for a long time. Tomás sat down in the armchair and rested his elbows on his knees.

He rubbed his face with his hands and took a deep breath. Part of him felt he had done the right thing, but another part felt it was too late. He didn’t know where to begin. He went upstairs slowly, passed Leo’s room, and peeked inside. Leo was asleep on his side, covered with a thin blanket. His face was peaceful, but his brow was still slightly furrowed. Tomás entered quietly, approached, and adjusted the blanket without making a sound.

He stared at it for a long moment, silent, as if he were silently apologizing. Then he went to Marina’s room and knocked once, twice. No one answered. He hesitated. He thought about knocking again, then about not. In the end, he just stood there, his hand hanging halfway down. He didn’t knock again; he went downstairs.

He went to the kitchen. Marina was there with her back to him, silently washing a spoon that was already clean. She didn’t say anything when she saw him. He leaned against the doorframe and stood there watching her. “How long have you known this was going to happen?” he asked, not raising his voice much. “What? That I was going to make a mistake? That I was going to involve the wrong person? That I was going to hurt Leo? I didn’t know.”

I was just afraid it would happen. Tomás nodded. He looked down. Marina put the spoon down, dried her hands with a cloth, and looked at him. You’re not alone in this, but you have to learn to be with yourself too. I’m having trouble. I know. And you? How are you? That question took her by surprise. No one had asked her that in a long time.

She crossed her arms, took a deep breath, and answered without thinking too much. Tired, but strong, Tomás took another step toward her. “I want things to change. I want the three of us to be okay. And you know how much I want to learn.” Marina didn’t answer. Her eyes said so much, but her lips remained silent. He moved a little closer, not to touch her, just so she could feel him near. “I failed you. We all failed each other.”

“Can I have another chance?” Marina looked down. She didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no either. She just dried her hands again, this time more vigorously. Then she walked toward the door without looking at him. “I have to make dinner.” Tomás was left alone in the kitchen. He didn’t follow her, didn’t insist, he just leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. Marina’s silence was heavy.

Not because she blamed him, but because he said everything she didn’t want to repeat. That night dinner was different. Marina cooked as always, with dedication, without talking much. Leo came down looking better, ate calmly, asked a couple of questions, told a bad joke. Tomás laughed. Marina smiled. “Can we watch a movie?” Leo asked when it was over.

“Yes, of course,” said Tomás, getting up from the table. “But I want Marina to come too.” She hesitated, looked at Tomás, then at Leo, and finally nodded. The three of them sat down in the living room. Leo in the middle, with a blanket up to his chest, Marina on one side, Tomás on the other. They put on a silly comedy that the boy loved. They laughed occasionally.

Other times they just glanced at each other. But no one spoke of what happened. When the movie ended, Leo fell asleep. Tomás carefully carried him up to his room. Marina watched them from downstairs. Then she stayed alone in the living room, picking up glasses and straightening the cushions.

Tomás went downstairs later, slowly, with measured steps, and found her cleaning up a small puddle of juice on the table. “Leave it, I’ll do it. I’m already on it. You don’t have to do it all.” Marina stopped. She looked at him. “It’s not that I want to do it all, it’s just that if I don’t do it, nobody will.” Tomás felt that blow to his chest. He had no answer. “It hurts me that you feel that way,” he said softly.

It hurts to admit it, but it’s the truth. I want to change it. It starts with looking. Really seeing. Another silence fell. This time different, as if they were saying goodbye to a way of life that no longer made sense. Tomás took a step back, not to leave, but so as not to pressure them. Good night.

Marina. Good night. He went to his room, closed the door, didn’t turn on the light, sat on the edge of the bed, and stayed there without moving. He didn’t cry, he didn’t speak, he just let the silence fill him, because sometimes there’s nothing more to say, only to accept and learn to be still. The next day, the house was calm, but it wasn’t a gentle or pleasant calm.

It was that feeling you get after a storm, when everything seems to be back in place, but the ground is still damp and the air is still thick. Marina came downstairs early, as usual. She made coffee, prepared oatmeal with banana for Leo, and toast for Tomás. She didn’t feel like talking.

She just wanted the day to pass without incident, without unexpected visits, without complaints or awkward gestures. Tomás came downstairs a while later. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before, his hair disheveled, dark circles under his eyes. He sat down without saying a word. Marina served him breakfast and walked away without looking at him. “Thank you,” he said after a few seconds. She just nodded. Leo came downstairs soon after. He entered the kitchen, maneuvering his wheelchair with ease.

He was wearing a T-shirt with a little alien print that Marina had given him. He was in a better mood. He greeted everyone, poured himself some juice, and sat down across from his dad. “Did you sleep well?” Tomás asked. “Yes, I dreamt I could fly like Superman. No, like a robot, but with wings.” Tomás smiled. Marina did too, though she didn’t turn around. After breakfast, everyone went their separate ways. Leo went to the living room to draw.

Marina went to the laundry room. Tomás locked himself in his office. The day wore on. And although it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen, the house was as if waiting, as if it knew there was still a chapter left to close. And that chapter arrived at noon. The door rang, three sharp knocks.

Marina, who was in the hallway, went to open the door and there he was, a man in his early thirties with a badly shaved beard, an old denim jacket, and a face like he’d had a hangover. His eyes were red and his expression was crooked. “Does Paola live here?” he asked without saying hello. “No,” Marina said immediately. “She doesn’t live here, but she used to come here. I brought her. I waited for her outside many times. Don’t play dumb.”

Marina looked at him warily. “Who are you?” “Her brother.” Tomás appeared at that moment from the stairs. He heard the last part and came down unhurriedly. “You’re Tomás?” “Yes.” “Look at that. No wonder the crazy woman was so excited. This house is like something out of a magazine.” “What do you need?” The man scratched his neck. He seemed uneasy. “I just wanted you to know that Paola wasn’t as sincere as she claimed.”

I don’t get along with her, but she borrowed money from me a few months ago for some work-related things. Turns out it wasn’t for that. It was to get herself into this place. She said she was going to fix her future. Tomás clenched his jaw. “And what do you want now?” “Nothing. I just want to tell you not to be fooled. Paola wasn’t here for love.”

She, the man, laughed to himself, as if he felt sorry for her. She said you were easy to manipulate, that you didn’t notice anything, and that if she won the boy over, she’d have it made. But you see how that turned out. Marina didn’t say anything, she just watched. And what do you gain by telling me all this? Nothing. Or maybe I do, I don’t know, maybe some money for the bus fare. I’m not going to lie to you.

Tomás took a couple of bills from his wallet and handed them to him. “Thank you for telling the truth. Now go.” The man took them, nodded, and left without looking back. Tomás closed the door and stood still, staring at the floor. “Did you already know?” Marina asked him softly. “I suspected it, but now I know for sure.”

“And that makes you feel better? It doesn’t make me feel any more ashamed.” Marina said nothing more. She went back to the kitchen. Later, Tomás approached Leo, who was still drawing in the living room. “Can you show me what you’re doing? I’m drawing a robot with a shield. Why a shield? Because it defends itself.” Tomás looked at him silently. Then he sat down next to him.

You feel like that, like you have to defend yourself. Leo stopped drawing. Sometimes, yes. When no one is listening to me. Tomás lowered his head. He felt smaller than ever. I want you to know it won’t happen again. I promise. Really? Yes. And not just because you say so, but also because Marina opened my eyes. Leo smiled.

She always tells the truth. Even if it hurts, Tomás looked at her. In that simple sentence, there was more wisdom than in everything he had thought about in weeks. Hours later, Tomás went up to Marina’s room. He knocked more decisively than before. She opened the door. She wasn’t wearing an apron, her hair was loose, and she looked tired. “May I come in?” “Yes.”

He came in and stood in the middle of the room. I didn’t know where to begin. Paola’s brother came in. I saw him. He confirmed everything. Marina looked at him without surprise. I figured as much. I feel like a fool. You’re not. You were just looking for something. We all do. Tomás sat on the edge of the bed. Marina leaned against the wall.

It pains me to have put Leo in that situation, but you got him out in time. Because you opened my eyes. I was blind, trusting out of necessity, refusing to see what was obvious. And now that you’ve seen it, what’s next? Tomás looked at her. To move on, but for real, not pretending, not filling the void with the first thing that comes along.

Marina moved a little closer, close enough for him to feel her presence. “And do you know who you want to be with?” “Yes, I know.” Marina lowered her gaze. Her fingers tightened together. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, Tomás. I’m not telling you what I feel.” “And are you sure?” “I have been for a long time, I just hadn’t realized it.” They looked at each other.

Not hastily, not urgently, but calmly, truthfully. And in that silence, this time there was no guilt, only understanding. The evenings had begun to feel cooler. The sky no longer blazed with that heavy sun of weeks past. Now the wind drifted gently through the windows, and the house had a different rhythm, calmer, more grounded. Tomás spent more time with Leo. They played, they talked, they laughed.

Marina was no longer just the one who cooked or did the laundry. She was truly present in every aspect of their day, even if none of them said so. The three of them were becoming more than family, something that didn’t yet have a name, but felt real. Everything seemed to be going well until a phone call changed everything. It was midday.

Marina was in the garden hanging laundry. Leo was taking a short nap in his room. Tomás was in the kitchen organizing some papers. His cell phone rang. It was an unknown number. He hesitated for a second, but answered, “Hello, Tomás, it’s me.” Her voice was unmistakable. Paola. It sounded different, subdued, with a calmness that wasn’t hers.

What do you want? I won’t bother you. I just want to see you one more time, Paola. Just once. Not to fight, not to get back together. I need to talk to you, tell you something I’ve never told you. Tomás was silent for a few seconds. His heart was pounding, but not from longing. It was more like a premonition. Okay, but not here. No, I’ll tell you where. A café downtown. Tomorrow at 5. I’ll be there. And he hung up.

That night he didn’t say anything to Marina, not because he wanted to hide anything from her, but because he didn’t know how. He knew she trusted him, but he also knew the wound was still very fresh. The next day, he arrived at the café 15 minutes early. He sat at a table by the window. The place was small, with the smell of freshly baked bread. Twenty minutes later, Paola came in.

She wore a gray sweater, no makeup, and her hair was pulled back. She didn’t look like the woman who had arrived with a red bow and a gold gift weeks before. She sat down across from him without saying hello. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know if it was a good idea. You decide in the end. Just listen. I won’t take up much of your time.” Tomás crossed his arms and waited.

When we met, she initiated things; I wasn’t looking for anything serious. You were an opportunity, a comfortable life, a good man. But I wasn’t okay, I wasn’t whole. I had problems at home, with my family, with myself, and I thought that if I stayed with you, all of that would be fixed. And it wasn’t fixed. No, it got worse because I pretended. I pretended I liked Leo. I pretended I liked that life. I pretended I could be part of something I didn’t understand.

Tomás lowered his gaze. And the worst part, Paola continued, was that I started blaming everyone else—you, your son, the house, Marina. She never did anything to you. No, she just showed me everything I wasn’t capable of being. And that hurt. It made me angry to see how she connected with Leo in days, while I only created distance. I felt replaced before I was even anything real.

So why didn’t you leave sooner? Because I wanted to win like it was a game. I wanted you to choose me, for her to be left out, for Leo to see me as family. But none of that happened. Tomás stared at her. And what do you want now? Nothing. I just wanted to tell you the truth because I know I messed up. I’m not looking for your forgiveness or acceptance.

I just want to close this chapter without any more lies. And your brother Paola snickered, always looking to take advantage. He lent me money thinking I was going to marry you. That’s how twisted everything is. And you told him so. Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter anymore. I just wanted to live a story that wasn’t mine. Tomás sighed.

The silence between them was long. “I hope you’re well,” he finally said. “Me too, Leo and her, even though it’s hard for me.” Paola stood up, took a folded photo from her bag, and placed it on the table. “It’s of my mom. She died recently. I never said anything. I think that’s why I was so out of it.” Tomás took the photo.

She was an older woman, smiling, sitting on a park bench. I didn’t know. I didn’t tell anyone. I was ashamed to say it hurt. Why? Because no one expects you to feel anything if you’re always the one who does the hurting. But it hurts too. It hurts to have lost her without telling her I missed her.

Tomás didn’t answer, he just nodded. Goodbye, Tomás. Goodbye, Paola. She left the café without looking back. This time there was no drama. No threats, just closure. A real closure. Tomás stayed a few more minutes, paid the bill, and walked out slowly. The afternoon air touched his face like a cleansing breeze.

He felt a strange mix of relief and sadness, but for the first time, there was no confusion. That night, when he got home, he found Marina in the kitchen chopping carrots for dinner. Leo was in the dining room drawing a spaceship. “Where were you?” she asked, still snacking. “I went to see her.” Marina stopped. She looked at him. Why? To close what she had left unfinished. He told me the truth for the first time, and I listened to him too.

Do you feel better? Yes. Not because of her, because of me, because there’s nothing left unfinished. Marina looked at him for another second, then continued cutting the carrots. Tomás came closer. And I want you to know that whatever happens, this house, this place only makes sense with you here. Marina lowered the knife. She looked at him seriously. Don’t tell me that if you’re not ready to stand by it. I’m ready. I finally am.

She didn’t smile, but she didn’t walk away either. And in the distance, Leo looked up and said aloud, “Done, I finished my drawing.” They both turned around, and there it was. A house, a tree, three figures holding hands, and this time one more in the distance with its hands in its pockets, walking in another direction.

Paola’s truth no longer hurt; it was just that, a truth that had finally been spoken. The sun streamed brightly through the dining room windows. It was Saturday. The house smelled of toast, freshly brewed coffee, and that aroma that only appears when everything starts to fall into place. Marina was preparing breakfast unhurriedly.

Leo was already awake, sketching in his notebook while tapping his feet rhythmically, as if he had a song playing in his head. Tomás came downstairs with damp hair, his shirt unbuttoned, and looking like he’d slept well. Finally. “Good morning,” he said as he approached the kitchen. “Good morning,” Marina replied, still scrambling the eggs. “Can I help? Set the table.” Tomás grabbed the plates and silverware as if it were part of his routine.

He no longer felt like a stranger in his own home. Marina glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, saying nothing. It was as if everything was on pause, but a beautiful pause, the kind you appreciate. “Are we going out today?” Leo asked without looking up from his paper. “That depends,” Tomás said. “Do you want to?” “Yes, I want to go to the park. The one with the special swing.” Marina looked up. “The one across the boulevard.” “Yes, that one.”

Tomás nodded. “Then let’s go.” After breakfast, they got ready. Marina put on a white blouse with jeans, Tomás wore light-colored pants and a light jacket. Leo happily wore his dinosaur hat and carried a small backpack with toys. The park was crowded, but peaceful. There were children running around, families with blankets, and couples strolling.

The special swing was free. Tomás helped Leo climb on. Marina sat on a nearby bench, watching them with a smile that wouldn’t leave her face. “Harder, Dad!” Leo shouted, laughing. “Hold on, you don’t want to fly off!” Leo’s laughter rang out like a bell amidst the noise.

Marina got up and walked toward them. Tomás looked at her and gave her a turn to push the swing. She did it gently, calmly, as if each push were a caress. “I’m happy,” Leo said suddenly. “Yes?” Tomás asked. “Yes, because we’re together and because I’m not afraid anymore.” Marina stood still. Tomás did too. “You were afraid before,” she asked.

Yes, but not anymore, because I know they won’t leave me alone, right? Never, said Tomás. Never, Marina assured him. Leo smiled and continued swinging. After a while, they sat under a tree eating some sandwiches they had brought. Marina made lemonade in a thermos and Tomás cut some apples. It was simple, it was perfect. What if we do this every week? Leo asked. Go to the park.

Yes, like a ritual. I like the idea, Marina said. Me too, Tomás added. The sun began to set. The sky turned orange and the breeze grew cooler. They packed everything up and headed home. When they arrived, Marina went up to her room. Tomás stayed in the living room with Leo. They watched a movie, ate popcorn, and then the boy fell asleep on the couch. Tomás picked him up and carried him to bed.

Upon returning, he found Marina on the balcony with a cup of tea. “Can I join you?” “Of course.” He sat down beside her. For a while, neither of them spoke. “Can I ask you something?” Tomás finally said. “Yes. You would stay with me, not out of habit, not because of the child, just you and me.” Marina looked at him. “That depends on what.”

That what we’re building is real, that you won’t turn off what I feel when you’re afraid to feel it too. Tomás nodded. It won’t happen. Not again. Marina looked down, then back at him. Then I’ll stay. And at that moment, as if the universe wanted to add an unexpected detail, the doorbell rang. Tomás frowned. Are you expecting someone? No. I went downstairs, Marina followed. Leo was asleep upstairs, oblivious to everything.

Tomás opened the door and standing before him was an unfamiliar woman, around 40 years old, with her hair tied in a long braid and a serious but calm expression. Tomás Herrera. Yes. Who are you? My name is Silvia. I’m here on behalf of someone you knew many years ago. Who? Declare. Tomás’s heart stopped for a second. Clara was his wife, his dead wife.

What did you say? I’m your sister, and I need to talk to you because I think there’s something you don’t know, something your son needs to know too. Marina approached, confused. What’s going on? Tomás didn’t answer. Silvia took a letter out of her bag. Clara left this for me. She asked me to give it to you when the time was right, and I think it is now.

Tomás took it with trembling hands. He opened the envelope. The handwriting was clear, round, the kind you don’t forget. “If you’re reading this, it’s because enough time has passed for you to understand. I didn’t leave just because of the illness; I left with a hidden truth. Our son isn’t just yours. There’s another part of his story that needs to come to light.” Tomás looked up.

His breath caught in his throat. Marina held him with her eyes. Silvia lowered her head. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here so he knows who he really is.” And then everything changed.